Of Time
by Scented-Marker-Sniffer
Summary: Just once, he didn't have to play that song. He could do it. He could. What was stopping him?


**MM is such a depressing game. While I don't know exactly when this oneshot takes place, we can assume that it's far enough in that Link has lost his marbles. **

**Reviews aren't required but they are very much appreciated. Thanks for visiting and please enjoy. **

* * *

The entire earth shook, uprooting trees, collapsing houses, destroying homes. The sky had turned a violent, sickly shade of red, of fire that was all-too-close to destroying the world. Other than the distant thunderous noises, the sounds of life in Termina had gone silent; it was as if all of its inhabitants had already died. They had all fled, or gone into hiding. No one was left. All that remained was the growing tremors and the light breathing of one blond boy.

He sat silently in a tall tree near the swamps, absentmindedly cradling a light blue ocarina and staring. Just staring, with jaded blue eyes that reflected the vicious shade of the sky, at that moon, that hideous-faced chunk of rock, that was bearing down upon the town. Oh yes, he knew every living soul in that town, knew every little thing about every one of them, knew every little minute of their daily routines. But not one of them knew anything about him, and it made him so _angry. _

He had reached the end of another godforsaken cycle, and it was time to play those six notes on his ocarina that would make everything okay again, that would erase his every action, steal the rupees from his pockets and his memory from the townsfolk's heads, and once again he would walk out of that clock tower at precisely six o'clock a.m. and start the whole miserable thing over again.

Three days, but forever. No time, but all the time in the world.

It was _maddening._

The moon was maybe a hundred feet from brushing the very tip-top of the clock tower; he had about fifteen minutes, probably less. Fifteen minutes until the end of the world, again.

He plugged and unplugged the holes of his ocarina in a mindless fashion. This one little trinket saved the world from destruction, time and time again. This one little instrument was killing him for that very same reason.

He... didn't have to do it. He didn't. For once, and for the last time, he could just... not play at all. He could really let the moon fall and crush that miserable town, crush him, engulf everything in fire and destroy the world he had given up everything for. At least then it would be over. Done. Finished. _In the past. _

The moon got closer. Ten minutes. He continued to fiddle with his instrument, idly humming the Song of Healing in an off-key way. Not that it had done him or anyone he'd used it on any good anyhow.

"... Link?" Tatl's voice was unobtrusive for once; gentle. "It's time. It's time now. You have to play the song now."

The blond boy gave a little sigh, not looking at her in a way that was almost petulant.

"Remember what we're here for. Play the song, Link. You know you don't really want this to happen."

"But, Tatl... If I let it fall... It'll be over. It'll _finally_ be _over_."

Tatl only looked at him sadly. This wasn't the first time he had wanted to give up, wasn't the first time she wanted to let him. Of course, she was always horrified when she found herself wanting to help him break that awful little flute into a million pieces; she still had a brother to save! She managed to motivate herself with thoughts of her sweet innocent little sibling, but she knew it was getting harder for her friend to turn back time every cycle. It was only a matter of time before he gave up completely.

She couldn't force him to try, couldn't force him to continue throwing away his innocence, his life, his sanity. She could only hope that this formerly happy, optimistic, selfless boy would continue to act for the greater good.

Five minutes, and counting. The green-clad boy picked his rupees out of his pockets and threw them to the ground, frowning distastefully.

Three minutes. A couple tears trickled down the boy's round face and dribbled off his wavering mouth, and Tatl nestled herself in his hair in a feeble attempt at comforting him.

One minute.

"Link... Play the song."

"I... I can't..."

"You have to try!"

_"I don't want to try anymore!"_

"You can't let this happen!"

She got no response.

Ten. Nine. Eight.

"Play it. Play the song."

Six. Five. Four.

"Link..."

Two... One...

_"LINK!"_

The moon made contact with the clock tower.

Simultaneously, six notes glided, soft but strong, through the fiery, dying air. Tatl screamed and screamed as the hellfire engulfed the land, but it never touched them.

Everything fell away. Tatl fell right along with her insane hero, through the white void, past the clocks that simply never stopped ticking.

When the child opened his eyes, he was standing again, faced with the chilling smile of the Happy Mask Salesman.

_You've met with a terrible fate, haven't you?_

As he turned away, Tatl murmured, "... I'm sorry, Link."

He didn't respond, choosing instead to push open the doors of the clock tower, faced with a town that never recognized him, never stopped repeating itself, never stopped breaking him.

A purple-haired boy in a mask ran down the stairs, the construction workers pounded with their hammers, the moon kept falling, and the clock kept ticking.

* * *

**Dawn of the First Day**

**72 Hours Remain**


End file.
